Twelve Days of Destiny 2
by Amberstar of Thunderclan
Summary: On the twelfth day of Destiny 2, my true love gave to me; twelve things 's ruined! A countdown to Destiny 2(much less cheesy than it sounds)! Watch as new Lords of Iron are named, Hunters reminisce, Cayde dumps barrels of Thrall spit on people, and War Chickens are bred. Yes, I did say 'War Chickens'. Deal with it.
1. Day 1

**On the first day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **A brand-spanking new Iron Lord!**

There were good days. There were decent days. There were Thursdays(which never made any sense). And then, there were bad days.

Shiro-4 had had what one might call 'a bad day'.

Now, he never really thought he fell under the term 'assassin', but then again, he'd never shied away when someone used it to describe him, either. The number of Fallen leadership he'd put in the ground, some without ever being spotted, shot at, or even suspected, might certainly testify to that, in combination with some of the sneaky methods he'd been known to use.

He'd once turned an entire House against each other by shooting an Archon with a wire rifle, and planting evidence of a coup... resulting in an actual coup. He swore, he'd once caught a glimpse of the Kell of Kings after following a Baron for three weeks. He'd made weapons out of scrap, forged devastating guns out of spare parts he found on his enemies, survived more than even Cayde-6 knew... for there would always be, as a Hunter, stories you never told, never would tell, never could tell, not even in your final moments.

This, he reflected, might be one of those stories.

He tried to move, but his body wouldn't obey. Things had been going smoothly; go in, kill the Splicer priest, get it done. He hadn't counted on the Hive being here... or that they might decide to try and bring the entire tanker down on top of him. He didn't think he would fall where Lord Colovance fell. He supposed the Hive had spent months digging tunnels under the Plaguelands, getting ready for this, getting ready to bring it all down... he wondered if he was just an unlucky bit of collateral damage, or if they'd known he was key in the Guardian operations going on here. He wondered who else might be trapped like he was.

 _"Shiro, do you copy?"_ Saladin's voice demanded from the comms. _"Repeat, do you copy? Shiro?"_

He tried to answer, but something moved in his throat, a piece of metal perhaps, when he tried to speak, and he wound up gagging and coughing instead. _Saladin doesn't deserve this..._ He had to get out of this mess, if not for his own sake, then his friends'. Saladin... had a bad tendency to push people away. Shaxx, Zavala, Tyra, all up until a very sickeningly stubborn Exo who still couldn't tell a hand cannon from a sidearm decided 'you know what? I'm going to FORCE you to be my friend'.

And the Titan hadn't been able to get out of it. Shiro was still slightly smug about that. For years now, he was certain he was the only person close to the Iron Lord, though that had started to change recently, with the threat of SIVA being neutralized day-by-day, and the new Iron Lord that needed training. Shiro didn't mind; it was good for Saladin. But a death would probably send all that progress down the drain.

 _"Shiro, confirm position, we're coming in for pickup."_ Saladin asked. Shiro tried again to drag himself away from the rubble, and failed. He dared to look down, at his legs, which he could feel but couldn't move. The entire lower half of his body was barely recognizable, twisted, shredded, crushed metal and armor that that would certainly need replacing.

"Saladin, it's Kara." His Ghost carefully peeked out from within his hood. "He's awake, but barely, I'm sending you our coordinates. The Darkness from the Hive really took it out of us, please hurry!"

He tried to wrap his cloak around himself for extra warmth, but it was shredded, too. _It's going to take me forever to find replacement cloth for this pattern..._ He'd used Baron cloaks to make his own, as they had specific markings that he'd found make for a nice pattern when stitched together in the fashion his cloak was in.

"Just hold on, Shiro!" his Ghost begged him. "Help's on the way, I'll fix you up, soon!"

He managed a nod, before letting his body relax as best he could. Exos weren't affected by the cold, but they could still feel it. And it burned against his face, against his exposed metal flesh and wire. The bit of metal in his throat, caused no doubt by the debris that had crashed into his chest and neck earlier, made it a little more difficult to breath than he would like. But maybe his luck wasn't all out, completely; his chest piece, though smashed in, had held up. If it hadn't, he'd be dead.

Everything was slow, and his vision kept flickering out like a bad vid signal, by the time he heard boots in the snow. It was so hard to stay awake... Exos didn't have blood, but there were fluids, white as the snow beneath him, that were just as vital, and he'd lost a certain amount, unfortunately. His Ghost would be able to fix him up once they got out of the Darkness-laced area... or so he hoped.

He heard metal and stone shift above him.

"I found him!" a body slid in next to him, a hand gripped his shoulder. "He's in bad shape, not sure it's safe to move him..."

Oh, _please_ , he would pay all the glimmer in the world to be moved! He just wanted out of here, so badly, he wanted out of here... he wanted to go home, he wanted to be back at the Peak...

 _Odd._ When had the Peak become 'home'? Hunters had no homes.

"His Ghost can help him when we get back." He thought that voice might belong to Saladin, and maybe the heavy thud of someone else joining them in the cramped rubble, but he couldn't be sure. Everything was slow, muffled. His vision failed as an arm wound it's way under his torso to try and lift him out of the debris, and all other senses soon followed.

* * *

Shiro's eyes shot open as the sharp alarm cut into his strange, Exo dreams. It had been almost a week since the Plaguelands collapsed, and he was back to fighting fit. A good thing, too...

Because that alarm meant the Peak was in danger.

He jumped out of bed, his repaired and new armor on within the space of two minutes(thank goodness he wasn't a Titan, or it would've taken longer), grabbed the Trespasser, and ran out into the halls. Nobody was up, or it was a slow night. Guardians rarely spent the night here, anyway.

"Kara, which beacon pinged?" he demanded.

 _"Main temple, whoever it is, they're inside!"_ his Ghost told him. He nodded. Whoever it was, was about to meet a nasty surprise. As he came up on the entrance to the Memorial Hall, he slid up along the wall, flicking the safety off on Trespasser, finger near the trigger, ready to pull. Taking one deep breath, he kicked the door open, and rolled into the room, dropping to one knee and immediately scanning the area around him... to find nothing of interest.

Unless he counted the way Lady Kirzara was dangling his alert beacon out in the open from one hand, both her and Saladin looking overtly amused at his display. He clicked the safety back on with a sigh. _Of_ course _it was a prank._

"Told you he'd come running!" Kirzara, the first Iron Lord to be named in centuries, teased. She tossed the beacon back to Shiro, and he caught it with all the dexterity his class was gifted with. The Warlock grinned, and Saladin shook his head with a bemused smile.

"Yeah, nice trick. I was just... you know, _sleeping_. Not too terribly important." Shiro turned the beacon off. Great, now he'd have to set it up again...

"Yes, you can get back to that later, old friend. But there was something I wanted to discuss with you. A conversation, in hindsight, that has been long overdue." Saladin told him. He cast a look at Kirzara, and she walked away at the unspoken request to take her leave. The Titan met his eyes. "It's about your place here, at the Peak."

If he had a gut, it would have twisted. _What does he mean?_ Had he done something wrong? Was it the beacons, were they bothering somebody? Was it because he spent too much time talking with Efrideet when she was around? His room used to be Lord Gheleons(filled with strange prizes that he'd learned to ignore, for he thought Saladin might find it disrespectful if he moved them), did Saladin want him to pick a different one? Was... did the Vanguard want him back? Saladin gave a bark of laughter as he saw all the question flit across Shiro's face.

"Oh, you aren't in trouble." He made his way over, clasping one hand on the Exo's shoulder, leading him towards the twisted tree that grew at the forefront of the Hall. Despite the fact the human was smiling, Shiro still felt nervous. "I just wanted to talk."

"About what?" he holstered the Trespasser. He'd have to get back into the field sometime, find some more Kings Fallen so he could repair his cloak.

"About you." the older Guardian admitted. He let out a small huff of amusement. "You have shadowed me for decades, been a friend at my side... sometimes when I didn't want you to."

"Since when have you known Hunters to do as they're told, right?" Shiro offered with a metal smile. Saladin nodded smiling back, but then frowned, eyes darkening.

"And last week... that was almost over." He shut his eyes lowering his head.

"Don't go getting teary on me; sure it was a close call, but it worked out in the end, didn't it?" the Exo reasoned, placing a hand on the Titan's shoulder. "No more Splicer priest... and apparently, no more Plaguelands to boot, even if it was the Hive pulling the strings."

"I'm old; I worry. And, yes I suppose... but things don't _always_ work out." the Iron Lord's eyes flitted towards the solemn statue of Jolder, as they often did. "It made me realize there is something I should have done a long time ago."

Shiro had to bite back a gasp as he pulled out a long knife out from the folds of his mark, and presented it. It was about the length of Shiro's forearm, a tanto with a blade that captured the firelight with a spiraling damascus pattern, carvings of curling tree branches in the hilt and grip. At the ricasso and along the heel, like with the sword Kirzara wielded, was the insignia of the Iron Lords.

"I know swords have never been your strong suit." Saladin gave him a wry smile, holding the knife out. Shiro, in a slight daze, took it up by the hilt, and twirled it in his grip. It was light, but he could feel the strength behind the blade as well. It's balance was superb; truly made by a master of the trade. He looked up at Saladin in shock as the moment truly hit him.

"Don't tell me you're making me a... holy Traveler's underpants, you _are_..." he breathed. The Titan laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

"You have worked rigorously, and sometimes without question. You have done as much, maybe more, to neutralize SIVA than even I was able to accomplish, Shiro." he told him, looking him dead in the eyes. "If there is any Hunter more worthy of the title 'Iron Lord', I have not met them."

Shiro took a few breaths trying to take it in. Finally, he managed to ask, just one question. "So... does that mean I can move Lord Gheleon's butt-ugly, knife-covered Kell head out of my room?"

When one heard the booming laughter of what was previously the last Iron Lord echoing through the halls of the Iron Temple, it was a sure sign that things were looking up to be a good day.

* * *

 **And here we go! We're off, off into one final adventure with our beloved D1 characters! At least... in the cases of the ones who don't make it, at least. Some of you may remember last year, when I did this same thing before Rise of iron dropped. People really liked that, so I'm going to do it again for Destiny 2. If you haven't read 'Twelve Days of RoI', I seriously recommend doing so, because I might continue some stuff from that in this.**

 **That, and... wow, only TWELVE days? This fic kind of puts things into perspective, doesn't it?**

 **If you really start to think hard about it, Shiro does actually deserve to become an Iron Lord. We know he and Saladin knew each other before RoI, and if you notice, he never asks questions about SIVA during the first few missions... implying that he already knows about it. That in and of itself speaks to how much Saladin must trust him, combined with the fact he brought him in on the SIVA Crisis. Also, I think we deserve to have a legitimate reason as to why an area covered head to toe in SIVA is no longer of interest to us, not just'it's a new game', so I took a bit out of my sweet time... to break the Plaguelands. It also made for a nice opening.**

 **Like with Twelve Days of RoI, I'll be posting a final chapter the day Destiny 2 drops, those of you who are doing the math; thats how I do these, twelve one-a-day one-shots, and one follow-up after the release... usually not on time. But this time, I'm going to try to stick to the scedual; for both RoI and Mass Effect; Andromeda, I had school to worry about, but for D2, this is not the case. I started writing early, and I managed to get up to chapter four. Sadly, though, the humor doesn't start until what I have planned for chapter 5, and I think you guys are going to like it.**

 **Look up to tomorrow! We take a peaksy at two of the new kids to the Destiny block...**

 **Read and Review!**


	2. Day 2

**On the second day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **Two lonely souls!**

They sat across from each other. One was older, the other, younger. He was wounded, she was not. He was calm. She was not. But he stayed calm for her sake.

"What you have to do," he told her slowly, "is help me out here, kid, help me out-ahk-it'll be easier if I'm on my other side."

"A-and then I-?" she made to press a wad of cloth against the wound. He reached up with his free hand and stopped her.

"You're going to build a fire." he told her calmly, though his voice was tight with pain. He unclipped his water pouch from his belt. "You're going to heat this up-not boiling, not scalding, just a mild heat-, and you're going to soak that in it, and put it on the wound."

"Y-you'll bleed out after that long!" she exclaimed.

"Not if you hurry." he told her, offering up a grim smile. He pressed his hand harder into his side, feeling slick blood seeping between his fingers, pooling on the floor. He felt dizzy, and everything was a little blurry as the girl rushed to assemble a fire. She had that down, at least. What had possessed a green kid like her to leave the walls of the City, he had no idea... but he had a few guesses.

He, of all people, knew that Hunters weren't the only ones that the wilds called to. Those walls, protective they may be, had not been wide enough for him, and he had a feeling the same could be said for his young friend here. The wilderness didn't discriminate when it called; there were simply some people who weren't meant for walls and rules... however fleeting their single life might be without the protection of the City.

"Can you sew, kid?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

"Y-yeah. Why?" her hands nearly slipped as she stripped the bark off a twig so she could stir the cloth around in the water.

"You're going to have to stitch me shut once the worst of the bleeding stops." he grunted, pulling his legs up to his chest to try and minimize the spasms passing through his abdomen. "Blighters!"

She hovered at his side, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him as the world began to flow away.

"Devrim! Devrim!" he grabbed her vest, accidentally catching a swath of her dark hair with his bloodied hand. _Ahhh, bloody-I'll apologize for it later._

"Just- do what I told you, kid, it'll all be fine. Finish the job... and I'll...I..." it all spun away, and he hoped above hope she didn't lose her head.

* * *

He woke briefly, to the feeling of someone washing the blood off his hand. His side throbbed, and so did his head. But that throbbing meant he was alive, so he wasn't going to complain. He tried to open his eyes, but his body wouldn't obey. It still wanted sleep, then; he wasn't going to argue with it. One's body knew what it needed, so if it needed sleep, he wouldn't fight it.

He could feel the girl's hands shaking as she worked. It was an awful nice courtesy to get the blood off, it certainly saved him the trouble later. He hoped she'd had plenty of sleep before tonight; someone had to keep watch, and he himself needed rest. He hoped she thought to keep watch. He had a feeling she would, for green though she was, she was also smart. She, like him, was a survivor.

He was glad they'd found each other; she wouldn't have made it out of that Fallen assault alive, and he wouldn't have survived the night if not for her. When two wandering souls found one another, he thought as his mind drifted away again, circumstances certainly changed. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.

Today, his was just lucky it had been the former.

* * *

 **Headcanon is that Devrim and Hawthorne had to meet at SOME point to know each other, right?**

 **Guest-LoL, yup. I have, unfortunately, found myself growing out of fanfiction recently. I'm going to take a wild guess that you forgot to sign in... whoever you are, LoL.**

 **New fics are always slow going. *tragic sigh* Hopefully I haven't lost my touch...**

 **Look up to tomorrow!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	3. Day 3

**On the third day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me:**

 **Three visits made!**

 _He knew._

Those words were thought with more vitriol and sorrow than could be expressed out loud.

 _He knew._

To say Cayde was angry would be an understatement. The understatement of the century.

 _He_ knew _._

He screamed and sent his fist into a tree. The equivalent of an i-beam hitting the wood at terminal velocity, that was how much damage he did; how much damage an Exo was capable of doing. He'd done the same thing to Zavala not half an hour ago. Why?

Because he'd known.

"I tried." the Hunter Vanguard whispered. He looked at his feet so he wouldn't have to look that name in the face. "I looked for so long, I tried to find him, I tried to."

Zavala wasn't a Hunter. He didn't understand-would never understand-what it meant to loose a knife-brother. What it meant to take up that painful cloak-oath, the fulfillment of which broke you just as much as the loss. What it meant to carry a red stripe on your armor. His was located on the back, beneath his cloak, alone the spine.

Because that was where the blade had gone through. That was what he'd witness the day of the Vanguard Dare, the day his knife-brother died. The scene was ingrained in his memory like the name carved into his arm with a number tagged to it. That was how Andal Brask died; shock blade through the spine, into the chest cavity, collapsing his lungs and bleeding him out while his Ghost lay crushed on the ground nearby. That was what Taniks did to him. That was why the Fallen merc had to die... by Cayde's knife. By Cayde's gun. By Cayde's Light, by every weapon he possessed.

Taniks' life was his to take. Taniks' blood was his right, and his alone, and any Hunter, even the new ones, could tell you that. But not a Titan. Not a Warlock; the tale of the previous Hunter Vanguard's demise was less known among them. Which was why when Zavala found out about Taniks, when the Reef contacted him, he sent a team of Titans in to put the merc down. No Hunters. A hunter would have known what it meant, a Hunter would have stopped them, called him, Cayde, and told him.

The Hunter Vanguard wasn't allowed outside the Tower.

Zavala had known. He'd known, he'd knew how long Cayde had been looking, how long he'd been dreaming of the day he could come to this spot, right here, and say truthfully... 'It's over. He's dead. You and your Ghost... get back to those wilds up there. No more worrying.'

He forced himself to look at the grave. Andal's name was carved graciously into the tan marble, the Hunter crest standing out bold and black above it.

"I'm sorry." he shuddered, sinking to his knees. 30 years of guilt, 30 years of hunting for Taniks, wasted. Wasted by the Titan Vanguard. Never again would he be able to look Zavala in the eye.

There were bridges you couldn't unburn.

* * *

He was made of metal, but right now he felt number than ever before. His boots crunched on frosted grass and fallen leaves, and if he were still Human, his throat would've tightened at the sight of the fresh grave nearby. Not particularly close to Andal's, but not too far away they couldn't be associated with one another. He looked between the two, then shut his eyes, head lowered.

"Well, well, well. Look at the two of ya'." He exclaimed, spreading his arms. "It's like we've got the old team back together again. All we need is Shiro and we're good to go."

He paced in front of Andal's grave.

"Yeah, 'cept it's not that funny, Tevis. That's why I'm ignoring your headstone for now, I'm mad at you." he shot a glare at the dark headstone, marked with the symbol of the Nightstalkers. "I mean... _Vex_ , really? You stepped through a Vex gate, without telling anyone, and you conveniently left your Ghost on the other side? Your Ghost who died because you abandoned him? I mean _what the heck where you thinking_!?"

He looked down at Andal's grave, as if begging for answers from his long-dead friend.

"You've been around for so long." he said quietly, voice tight. "So, so long. We all knew you were tired, we all knew you were done. We all knew you had a deathwish... but why did you have to choose _now_?"

He took a deep breath, trying to shake the fresh grief off his shoulders. He was loosing a lot of scouts, recently. Too many, and it was all because of the Taken. He strode away, back to the Tower, but not before casting one last look at where Tevis had been buried.

"You were the only person I could think of who might be able to get in and out of the Hellmouth without incident. You were my first option for infiltrating that Dreadnought. You could've done all that, even without stealth tech; that was just how you worked." He cleared his throat, and turned away. "Dammit, Tev, _you_ were my master plan. Why'd you go and throw it all away?"

* * *

He'd never gotten the expression 'shooting yourself in the foot'. If the goal was to get as far away from the battlefield as possible, why make it harder to walk? Certainly, they didn't expect the medics to do _all_ the work; they could get killed, and then everybody would be in trouble!

Cayde wasn't sure if he'd shot himself in the foot. If he had, he'd been downright clumsy, or he'd done it in the daze that came after the Traveler went out. Dazes lead to poor decision-making, and a Hunter _never_ shot themselves in the foot, not even in their most cowardly moments; agility was their name, and one couldn't run away if they blew their foot off.

He thought he remembered something about a trap... had he stepped on a mine or something? He still wasn't sure. All he knew was that after comms went down, after the battle was lost, after his powers failed him, he'd stumbled and crawled with great effort, with his comatose Ghost clutched tight to his chest, to here. With a sigh of something resembling relief, he let himself relax against the tree. He looked up at the smoke rising from the City, the Cabal ships raining fire on any who tried to escape.

 _Stupid space turtles._

"Hey, guys. Long time, no see." he grunted. The weakness and disorientation he'd felt when the cage became active was wearing off. He was an Exo... he kept going. He wished he could say the same for his poor Ghost...

"Look... I've never been generous, with either of you." Clovis Bray had taken his ability to cry long ago. That didn't mean he couldn't feel pain; the physical pain of being beaten half to death, of missing a foot, or the emotional pain that came with saying goodbye... probably for good. "You know, I've always though of this as a place were you were both still around. Like... a little bar I could go to, to forget my problems. I drank memories until I was hungover, and I _try_ , I try _so hard_ to carve your names into my mind as deeply as they're carved into that stone... Because I'm afraid, Andal. I'm afraid, Tevis... I'm... I'm afraid I might forget, you know."

A tremor pass through the ground. Or was that just him shaking.

"I'm afraid of the next reset." he admitted, voice a hoarse whisper. What Exo _wasn't_ afraid? Who wasn't afraid to forget? "And I think it's coming soon. I... I can feel it. I'm going to need it soon, the next decade, I'll start hurting and the only cure will be to forget. To _reset_. To get a new number, and when I do... and when I do... will any of the fragments that come through my dreams remind me why I wear this cloak? Will any of them tell me how my scouts presented me with a Dusk Bow's Light and a broken knife? Will I know why I wear two red stripes on my armor?"

Would he remember their faces? Would he remember Tevis' sly ways, his sleight of hand? Would he remember Andal's laughing, his skill with a gun? Would he even remember how they died? Would he even remember to be angry at Zavala for not telling him about Taniks?

Would he even remember himself?

"I suppose one of you would tell me you'd, say, kick my butt until I remembered you. The other one of you... well, Tev, you'd probably shove an arrow in my knee and tell me 'remember _that_ , new blood'." he liked to think his Tevis impression was top-of-the-line. "I, uh, I have no idea what to do, now though. I guess, technically speaking, I'm free... but the City is down. No-one ever told us what to do if that happened. You guys reckon there's something out there that can help?"

He looked up at the sky; all lightning and smog. Ikora's Stormcallers had been so excited about tonight; they were going to have some sort of 'Lightning meditation ritual' on the Travelers Walk. He wasn't so sure those Stormcallers had survived the initial barrage the Tower was hit with.

"I reckon, somewhere out there, someone has something we can steal... something really good at killing cabal... maybe just as good at fixing catatonic Ghosts." With a pained grunt, he struggled to stand. In hindsight, he probably looked a bit ridiculous, dragging a useless, twisted mass of metal around as a leg. Looking up at the tree, he reached up, gripped a thick branch firmly with both hands, and snapped it off, splinters raining down on him. It took him twenty minutes of snapping and tying the wood together with parachord, but by the end he had a makeshift crutch fit for a Hunter.

Now far more mobile than he had been, Cayde made his way into the wilderness. At the edge of the dark, rain beating down on him, he looked back. The wall was collapsing. He knew, deep in his heart, that by the next time he was here, if he ever came back, these graves would be buried beneath the rubble. There would be nothing left.

Nothing but a cloak, a bow, and two red stripes.

* * *

 **Because really, I think there would have been at least some kind of falling out between Cayde and Zavala for this. And yes, if you look closely at a scene in some trailer footage, Cayde is missing a leg, though it's uncertain exactly how that happened.**

 **I'd like to say his incendiary grenade bounced off a teammate and blew up in his face, but this wasn't the crucible.**

 **Furious Titaness- Glad to hear it!**

 **jsm1978-Thankfully, since I got some of these ready early, I had more time to make bigger chapters than for Rise of Iron or Andromeda. I wanted to keep things with Devrim and Hawthorne short, though, because it's too early to asume too much about their characters' personalities.**

 **Look up to tomorrow!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	4. Day 4

**On the fourth day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **Four missing files!**

(~enhance~FILE CORRUPTED BY~glory~)

(~enhance~File CORRUPTED)

(~enhance~collaborate~REMEMBER HER)

"You like to fix broken things." he said in realization. "Don't you?"

"I tinker in my off-time" she piped cheerily, missing the implication in his words. She spent so much time with Gheleon now... it was hard not to notice the way they looked at each other these days. And... dare he say it, it was hard to admit he missed the days before the Hunter joined the Iron Lords.

It used to be she'd spend her days with him, trying to force him into the fold, trying to get him to socialize with the other Iron Lords, being pesky and naive and unbearable, and... and why hadn't he ever told her? Was it pride? Was it because he didn't want anyone to crack open and get through his 'cold shell', as she called it?

She'd done the same with Gheleon. The same process... but with far different results. She'd been _successful_ with Gheleon. She had been successful... and now lok at the two of them. Why did that break his heart? Did logic have a heart?

"Got something you need fixed?" Skorri asked, beaming up at him from her desk.

 _Me._

"I... smashed a clock."

STOP STOP STOP

(~enhance~NOPLEASE~consume~FILE DELETED~)

(~enhance~FILE LOST~replicate~FILE RECOVERED~)

(~enhance~FORGIVE ME)

He lay on the floor, gasping, choking. SIVA crept up his neck, wire dug under his armor, his plating, and, very soon, now, his mind. The Hunter crouched at his side was in shock.

"Gheleon..." He managed to gasp as SIVA tried to clasp off his voice. He had the human's arm in a deathgrip. Exo deathgrips were by far more painful than organic ones. Exo deathgrips snapped bone. He could feel Gheleon's humerus crunching beneath his armor. Even as SIVA crept up the arm of Skorri's be-cloaked love, he did not move. He simply stared, face pale, eyes blank at the place she'd been standing mere moments ago, running towards them with flames at the ready to burn the plague off his armor.

"Ghe..G..."he couldn't do it. He simply couldn't speak. There were no words to say, even if he had the physical capacity."Ghel..."

He was sorry. He was _so_ sorry. So sorry it ended like this, so sorry for falling in love with her, so sorry for being so jealous when it was Gheleon who wore that copper ring around his neck because it wouldn't fit on his hand with his armor on... he could see it now, small, catching the red light of-

STOP STOP STOP

(~enhance~WHYWHYWHY~consume~FILE DELETED~)

(~enhance~FILE REDACTED~replicate~enhance~FILE~~enhanced~~)

(~enhance~YOUR FAULT~~DETERIORATING~~WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU)

Timur never came out anymore. He spent every day in his study, he'd gone full Thanatonaught in his search for answers. But it wasn't just that. There was something else to his madness, like Gheleon said.

Timur was sick. He was very sick, there was something very wrong with him, and no answers as to why it was happening, or how, or what they could do to stop him from going further. He didn't eat, he certainly didn't sleep, and when he wasn't killing himself 'for science', he was staring at nothing most of the time. He used to be lively and obnoxious. Now? Now he was just... existing for the sake of existing, a shell if anything. He had been have trouble with his Light recently as well. He suspected that problem came from his fellow Warlock's thanatonaughtics, more than anything.

Aside from that... none of the doctors in the Last City had been able to answer any questions about Timur's apparent madness. No-one knew how to help. Which for the first time ever... made the Iron Lords helpless. He, personally, had never really thought of the annoying Human as a friend. A compatriot, yes, a comrade, certainly, but he had never been able to stand him.

So it was odd that he missed the old Timur, when the new one was so much quieter, so much less eccentric.

"I'm finding it!" the stormcaller hissed excitedly, bent over old papers. He looked up at him, face gaunt but filled with excitement, which for some reason made him feel sad for the Warlock. "I'm close to finding SIVA!"

STOP STOP STOP

(~enhance~IWANTTOFORGET~consume~FIE DELETED~)

(~enhance~FILE CREATED~collaborate~ACCESSING AUDIO~replicate~SIVA COMPROMISED~)

(~enhance~PALISADE IMPERATIVE COMPROMISED~replicate~RESUME BASE OPERATING PARAMETERS~)

(EXONEURAL DAMAGE DETECTED)

(MASSIVE UNIT TRAUMA DETECTED)

(REBOOT IMMINENT~REBOOT DISABLED~consume failed~LAST RITE PROTOCOL ENGAGED)

(UNIT PERSONALITY TERMINATION IMMINENT)

(ACCESSING AUDIO)

(RESETTING AUDIO)

"-ladin, Shiro, he's breathing. We're sending you scans; any way we can help this guy?" Someone was removing wires form his body. Tearing them off like they were made of paper. Who were they? Who... who was _he_?

 _"That's... far too extensive."_ that voice... that voice... where did he know that voice from? They sounded sickened, horrified, in fact. How did he know that voice... _"Bring him home, Guardian. And... be gentle to him, for my sake."_

"Think he can hear us?"

"I don't know. I least, I _hope_ he isn't conscious, this looks just agonizing... it's easy to see why Saladin's afraid of this stuff."  
 _Saladin_. Now there was a name. Now there was a flag flapping at the back of his mind. Saladin. He knew that name, the flag was really flapping...no... no, not a flag, a _banner_...a _banner..._

What were all these words and names he didn't know but meant so much to him? Why couldn't he remember them? Why... why had he been put through such horrific torture? Why was he in so much _pain_... and why had it ended... it...it had _ended_ , right?

"O... ov-er...?" he managed to choke. He had to know, he was desperate to know... this had to be the end of the torture...

"Yeah, yeah it's over." a pair of hands clasped his only remaining one(at least, he was certain he only had one left). He somehow managed to find the ability to curl his fingers over her own. Another living being. He wasn't alone...

"It's alright, Felwinter. You can sleep now." _Felwinter._ Was that... was that his-

STOP STOP STOP

(~FILE DELETED~consume~FILE CLOSED~enhance~FILE ARCHIVED TO[GLORY UNAVAILABLE]~replicate~)

(UNIT PERSONALITY TERMINATED)

(POSTMORTEM TRANSMISSION ACTIVATED)

(DATA SYCHNING WITH ISHTAR ARCHIVES)

...

...

...

(SYNCH FAILED)

(POSTMORTEM TRASMISSION FAILED)

(UNIT PERSONALITY[subj. Felwinter, Augustus] ARCHIVE FAILED)

(WE AT CLOVIS BRAY APOLOGIZE FOR THE LOSS OF YOUR LEGACY)

* * *

 **Poor Iron Lords deserved better than what they got. Yes, I've made it no secret I ship Gheleon and Skorri, but I like to think his might not be the only heart she tamed, even if it was unintentional. And how could I do a twelve days of Destiny fic _without_ anything Iron Lord?**

 **jsm1978: *sighs* some words are just trolls...**

 **Furious Titaness: No; _this_ is the chapter meant to make you feel depressed. ^^**

 **Look up to tommarow! The chickens of war are loose...**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	5. Day 5

**On the fifth day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **Five, war chickens!**

"Alright!" Cayde smacked the pointer on the surface of the chalkboard. "Here's the low-down; we've got twenty-four hours until we all die. BUT, there's no guarantee of that if you all do EXACTLY as I say."

He whirled, and pointed with the pointer. "YOU, will infiltrate and execute a shadow operation against enemy command. Whatever you do, whoever else falls, _do not_ let Ghaul out of your sight; you hear me ranger!?"

"And you three will be with me. Our goal... is to pull a Tevis Larsen #12, like the summer of '89. Dark time, dark times." he paced back and forth, hands behind his back. "I expect each of you to be at your sharpest. I won't lie... Billy Joe, you might not make it out alive. We'll be sure to honor your sacrifice for the greater good of all."

"And then we had you, my greatest pride." he crouched down, meeting his student in the eyes. "I'm count on you most of all. You're our moral support, you're our fire. I know you won't let us down... Captain Mcnuggets."

The bird looked at him blankly, and then simply strut forwards several steps before picking at the Hunter's half-eaten sandwich. It stopped after several tries, and the Exo chuckled, reaching out to stroke the chicken's neck.

"Yeah, I thought you'd agree; pumpernickel just don't taste right." carefully, slowly, he slid his other hand under the knighted Mcnuggets, and lifted him up. The other Guardians just didn't get it; you didn't have to be fast to catch a chicken; you just had to be slow, let them come to you, and let them give you permission. If the bird didn't want to be handled, boy, they would _let_ you know.

"Just what _are_ you doing with those poor animals?" He looked up at Hawthorne, leaning against the entrance to the barn.

"Poor animals?" he huffed. He waved one hand to indicate the other four chickens. 'Billy Joe' was quite literally pecking at a rock(hence Cyade's doubt he would survive the coming battles). "These are war chickens."

"War chickens?" she raised one eyebrow incredulously. "Capes, you've got a screw loose in that head of yours."

"'Capes'? You sure your not the one with a screw loose, with _that_ nickname?" he teased.

"I'm not the one with a bucket for a head." she shot back. The Exo rolled his eyes.

"The race card is unladylike." he drawled in good humor. "Devrim would be _so_ disappointed."

"Har har." she said. "You met that Asher guy yet? He's like a mad squirrel on caffeine."

"I remember him from the Tower; he's one of those people you can only handle in _small_ doses." Cayde nodded, rubbing his fingers through the feathers on Mcnuggets' neck.

"What _is it_ with you and the birds, anyway?" she changed the subject. "They run from most Guardians, but it's like you've got some magic touch or something. Even Louis likes you... and he usually doesn't like anyone but me."

"I'm a Hunter. We're good with animals." He shrugged.

"I don't see any other Hunters sleeping in a chicken coop."

"Maybe chickens are my favorite animal."

"Bullhockey."

"I'm not using any hocus-pocus space magic on them, if that's what you're worried about."

"... I still think you're crazy, Cayde."

"Good to hear; I have a reputation to uphold, don't I?"

* * *

 **I... sorta maybe ship Cayde and Hawthorne. Just a little.**


	6. Day 6

**On the sixth day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **Six knives to go!**

If she was any weapon, it would be... a blade. One like the knives she was so fond of. Precise, sharp, silent save the sound of movement. Yes, the word 'knife' described her perfectly. Yet even with this comparison personifying her, he found it... very difficult to decide just who and what she was.

He just didn't get her. With was unsettling, because his skills were unmatched when it came to figuring people out. Perhaps... perhaps it was because she had no voice? Because there were no tones to analyze, no inflections to pick apart, simply body motion he didn't understand. And much of those motions involved throwing weapons at the targets in the Vestian Outpost's training grounds.

Throwing blades into fake hears, heads, throats, joints vital for movement. Uldren watched as each shining knife found it's target. He guessed she might be particularly frustrated today, because it seemed like she was emptying her entire arsenal into the poor dummie Fallen set up around the arena. At least... he thought she was frustrated. He wondered what about, if she was.

He had been... doubtful, when he found out one of the Guardians that frequented the Outpost was a mute. That one of the Guardians hitting the wolves the most couldn't utter a single word. Then the reports from the field came in. Then, he started coming here to watch her train. Then... he realized that nothing about her made any sense at all.

 _Electively mute. A sign of weakness surely... but then why are Wolf Barons dropping like flies, with slit throats and daggers sticking out of their hearts?_ Was it possible to be weak yet strong? Or was there some kind of... gray area? His whole life, he had only known people to come in black and white; strong or weak. Courageous or cowardly. There was no place in-between. Yet here was someone who hovered _just there_ , where he couldn't quite get a grasp of where to place her.

He couldn't understand it, couldn't understand her... but most of all, he couldn't understand why it bothered him so much. Like he felt he should know what to do with her but didn't, an itch he couldn't quite scratch, a memory he couldn't quite find; a life he couldn't quite remember, like in some other place entirely, she was significant, yet at the same time, not.

Sierra Rogers was the enigma that had finally stumped him, Prince Uldren Sov, the Master of Crows, who knew just about everything and every how, who held more power in his hands than any man in the Reef ever had. Why?

There were six dummies left without weapons sticking out of them, and he realized that, quite suddenly, she had stopped. He watched as her arms fell to her sides, a heavy sigh escaping her lips, the posture and sounds of someone who was just so _tired_. But tired of what?

 _They don't need to sleep. They can't even die. Why would a Guardian be tired?_ But perhaps the first two former where exactly the answer to the latter. If you lived forever... how could you not get tired, of the same fight day, after day, after day? Perhaps... perhaps that was one thing he could understand about her. Anyone could see the exhaustion of those who couldn't be killed. The sweet sleep of death was the one end goal of all living things, the one true prize of peace they were assured.

Uldren backed out of the shadows. He'd seen enough for today. Rogers made his brain hurt.

There were six knives left to be thrown, and a life with no end to live for her.

* * *

 **And now a very special visit from a very special Hunter! Jay gave me permission to play with her mute for a chapter, and I've always wondered what Sierra would be like in canon Destiny, and what canon Uldren might think about her.**

 **That being said, I AM SO SORRY THIS UPDATE WAS LATE! I was super busy today and didn't have time to update.**

 **jsm1978-LoL, I actually thought about LoZ chickens when I made that chapter.**

 **Look up to tomorrow!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	7. Day 7

**On the seventh day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me:**

 **Seven things to miss!**

"No, no, no; so he's trying to run at the thing, and then _I_ say 'PUSH THAT SUCKER OFF THE LEDGE!'" Alex gestured wildly, miming a Nova Bomb. "And then, I hit the thing with a Nova Bomb, and it flies right off below!"

"No way!" Sierra shook her head. "There's no way I'm going to believe you killed the mother of all Vex by pushing it down the stairs."

"Off a cliff." The Warlock corrected. "And, might I add, it's no more believable than _you're_ little story about Crota. Like I'm going to beleive you staggered him and kept him down because a Titan just stood there chanting the word 'ethernet'."

"Hey, that's true!" She protested. "Carlton was there, he saw it, too!"

"Don't drag me into this!" the Titan raised his hands in surrender. "I'm still trying to re-find my dignity after that whole 'Hammer' incident."

The other two Guardians just stared at him.

"You know? When my Light stopped working the way it should? You don't remember when I could throw hammers like a machine gun?" he asked, disbelieving they could forget such a thing.

"I remember wanting to strangle you in the Crucible." Alex said. "Does that count?"

"Kinda reminds me when Dusk Arrows seemed to grow on trees..." Sierra sighed wistfully. "I remember that... it was the only reason we were allowed into the Lighthouse that one time; you guys did absolutely nothing, but _I_ kept wiping the other teams..."

"Sierra, that's the reason Shaxx looks at us like we set the Tower on fire." Alex reminded her witheringly.

"' _Looks_ at us'? But, he's always wearing that helmet!" she exclaimed, confused. "How can you tell the way he's looking at you?"

"When you feel your soul slowly being ripped out of your body." Carlton stated, earning a sagely nod from the Warlock member of their team.

"Oh, you mean when the Cave of Endless Slaying ran empty?" Sierra planted her chin on her arm as she looked at from from over the back of the couch. "Yeah, that did hurt."

"Completely unrelated, Sierra." Alex shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Unrelated?" She challenged. "You want unrelated? I'll _show_ you unrelated! REMEMBER THAT TIME WE ALL HAD SPACE COOTIES!?"

"Oh, _p_ _lease_ don't." Alex begged, burying his face in his hand completely. "I don't even want to _think_ about the hangover those mites gave me after the cure was administered..."

"Okay, talk about something else, then..." Carlton looked around, searching for something to talk about. "Oh! Uh, remember that one time last year? Saladin got called away during Iron Banner, so he held it twice the next month?"

"That's _worse_!" Alex groaned, and Sierra made an odd sort of keening noise that sounded like a deranged moan. "I still can't sit right!"

"If it hurt so much, why did you keep jumping back into it?" the Huntress asked.

"I had a reputation to uphold." the Warlock crossed his arms in a way that clearly said; 'This conversation is _over_.'

* * *

 **Some of this is stuff only Year 1 vets will remember. As a Taken Tot, I wasn't there for them, but I thought those of you where were would appreciate this chapter.**

 **I was here for the double Iron Banner July(i think) of legend, and Owl Sector of course. All this week I keep expecting something weird to pop up on Mars or in a mission, but so far nothing is happening. Next Tuesday marks the final D1 weekly reset before D2 launch, so if anything... STRANGE is going to happen, we'll hear about it from the Australians late on Monday.**

 **Look up to tomorrow!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	8. Day 8

**On the eighth day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **Eight barrels emptied!**

It was a relatively peaceful day at the Tower. Actually, it had been relatively peaceful just about everywhere on earth, now that the Fallen had up and moved out for some reason. And when there was peace... there was, eventually, boredom. And when Cayde-6 got bored... he did plenty of absurd things to his fellows.

Today, that 'absurd thing' involved Thrall spit... eight barrels of it.

One Warlock sat with her legs brought up to her chest as she rocked herself back and forth on the floor, eyes wide and haunted, while two Hunters continued to fling remnants of the goo over her head at each other. An older Hunter just stood in the center of the hallway, looking like he was in shock. Three Titans stopped around the hall, demanding to know who the culprit was and where they were, so they could throw them out an airlock. Ikora was trying to organize a clean=up effort, and Cayde...

Cayde looked on, seemingly bored despite the mayhem that had been wrecked. He let out a woebegone sigh, and a confession that the furious Titans didn't seem to hear. "Not my best work; I should have put food coloring in it... and onions and peaches."

Thus was the scene Commander Zavala walked in on, exasperated, the morning before the storm.

* * *

 **Yeah, not feeling too well today, so, short chapter. Props to anyone who finds the 'Holes' reference in this one.**

 **Furious Titaness- Glad you did!**

 **jsm1978- I agree. Transmission was _so_ much fun...**

 **Anyway, the pc beta testers got access to the Farm, but this time it had music to go along with it. It's really amazing, it reminded me of Ori, Rogue Galaxy, or Final Fantasy XV. Maybe a mish-mash of all three. I LOVE whoever it is they hired for the music in this game(and RoI, come to think of it).**

 **Look up to tomorrow!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	9. Day 9

**On the ninth day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **Nine hideous arachnids!**

"What the Thrall spit were you thinking!?" Tevis yelled as the four of them tore down the tunnels as fast as their legs could carry them.

"I was thinking; 'oh, lets blow these up, they're blocking our way'!"Andal shouted back.

"Dude, they were asleep; all we had to do was sneak past them without touching their webs!" Cayde snapped.

"What good would that have done! Who cares about their stinking webs, they're after us because you killed one!" Shiro, who was only a week revived, panted as they ran.

"You touch their webs, they sense you! That's how spiders work, dumb-butt!" Tevis shot back. "Get you're green butt up here, or I'll kick it the whole way out of these tunnels!"

Cayde grabbed their 'younger' cohort by the arm, and threw him to the front of the group. Tevis dared to look back, and saw at least nine of the person-sized arachnids rushing up behind them from the tunnels. He drew his dusk bow, and shot an arrow over Andal's head, piercing one spider in the head, and tethering the rest of them to it's body.

"How long will that slow them down?" Andal asked.

"Not long! Keep going!" the oldest Hunter responded.

* * *

"Yeah, I expect you to believe me!"

"..."

"Really? Well, lemme tell ya' a little something 'bout 'believing' things; it don't matter if it's true 'r not."

"Hey, you think I got this bow by tell'n my mentor 'no way that's true'? If I 'ad, I wouldn't be where 'm at right now. My mentor, 'e was a crazy one. Lemme tell you a little 'bout mouth'n off 'bout things you don't know, kid..."

* * *

 **SO SORRY everyone! I got a super bad headache/stomach funk thing the past few days, didn't feel like looking at ANY kind of screen.**

 **Furious Titaness- Oh, I was in the mood; I just felt aweful.**

 **Helios734- No; peaches and onions are what cures foot odor. Among other things.**

 **Yeah, expect a full-out chapter dump tonight and tomorrow.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	10. Day 10

**On the tenth day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **Ten, really suckie inconveniences!**

"I HATE YOU!" Sierra screamed. She stood out of cover, brandishing her Hawkmoon. "I REALLY FREAKING HATE YOU!"

"GET DOWN!" Carlton slammed into her, bringing her to the ground, landing on top of her, as the boomer blasts exploded like heavy mortar fire right where she'd been standing moments before.

"Sierra, don't be reckless!" Alex called from where he was pinned on the other side of the room. Sierra peeking up from beneath the mound of Titan she was now trapped under.

"Oh, I'm sorry; did my uncontrollable rage inconvenience you?" she asked sweetly, loudly. She then worked her hand free as Carlton moved to get up, and, raising it over the small wall that separated them from their opponents, flipped the Knights off. "BECAUSE THEY ARE INCONVENIENCING _ME_! CHEESERS, CHEESERS! BOOO, BOOO, _BOOOOOO_!"

Alex did wonder what they had done, and how they had managed to get ten Ascendant Knights bearing down on them all at once. And from quite the advantageous position, too.

"Carlton, distract them! Sierra, I need you to tether them all when they're focused on him!" He called out. After several moments, there was a slight lull in the downpour of blasts. "NOW!"

Carlton ran out, feeling the boomers hot on his armor as they splashed arc energy all around him. Then Sierra's arrow whistled through the air, and the barrage stopped as the Hive elites gave a startled wince when the hungry tendrils of void energy gripped their bodies. Alex dodged out of his cover, and launched himself forwards, cocking his fist back with void light crackling up his arm. With one push forwards, it was all over in the shine and burst of purple and every-colored energy.

"HA. How do like us now, Beyonce?" Sierra crowed, cocking her hip and spinning Hawkmoon in one hand before holstering it.

* * *

 **Ahh, Fireteam Herp 's Derp, I'll never let you go.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	11. Day 11

**On the eleventh day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **Eleven things to come back to!**

"Don't go!" He begged. He latched on to the Hunter's cloak desperately. The frayed fabric was deceptively strong; after all, it, like the Hunter that wore it, went through quite a lot in short periods of time, and needed to last.

But there was no way for the Guardian to last this time; not this fight, not this way, not today... not without his Light, his Ghost. Toby and the other children were too smart, too smart after what had happened, after loosing their parents and everything else, to think everything would be alright if he didn't have his Ghost.

"I have to." the Guardian turned, leaning down to halt Toby and pulled his cloak away from his grip. The child's breath came in short, quick gasped, and tears ran hot down his face. The rest, the only other ten kids that were safe at the Farm, stood behind him, looking up at Marcus Ren with hope and terror alike.

Maybe it had been a bad idea to get close to them. Maybe it had been a bad idea to try to take just a little bit of the sorrow out of their lives, to give them _someone_ they knew they could go to, _someone_ that could try to rekindle their innocence. There was no way he could replace the father of any of these children, he'd thought to himself, but he could give them something; a distraction, a laugh, a tiny ray of hope, a tiny _taste_ of the normality that the Red Legion had snatched away.

"But you won't come back!" Toby sobbed, throwing his arms around the Hunter. It was soon that Marcus found he couldn't move, the other children all crowded around him. He had to give them credit; it was a good way to pen someone in. Quite the emotional blow, as well. One arm around a young Awoken girl who clung to his side, he rested his chin on the boy's forehead, stroking his hair.

"I'll come back." He whispered, he himself now trying to fight back the burning sensation in his eyes. He meant it, too. This wasn't exactly something, a role, a position he'd ever thought he'd find himself in... but it was something. Something to come back to. "I'll come back. I promise."

* * *

 **It didn't help I was listening to Cats Stevens' "Father and Son" while I wrote this.**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


	12. Day 12

**On the twelvth day of Destiny 2,**

 **My true love gave to me;**

 **Twelve things 'a ruined!**

"Alright... so; tell me how it began." the therapist asked. The young Hunter, with long, auburn hair, lay reclined in the seat across form him with ehr hands folded on her stomach. Her eyes grew misty as she began to speak.

"Well... it all started when I was first revived." Sierra began. "I went to the Tower, same as any Guardian would... talked with Cayde, got some gear, some training... then some JERK Warlock comes up behind me while I'm scouting out all the good movies I can't remember-and you know what he says?- 'SNAPE KILLS DUMBLEDORE'!"

The last three words came out as a howl, and the therapist winced. "And it didn't stop there-NO! He went on, kept following me around; Anakin IS Darth Vader; Ripley has a chestburster in her; Thorin, Kili, and Fili die in the end! Oh, and the BOOKS he ruined for me!? IN THE LAST NARNIA BOOK THEY"RE ALL DEAD IN THE END! GOLLUM IS THE UNINTENTIONAL HERO OF LORD OF THE RINGS! Firestar? HE DIES IN 'THE LAST HOPE' AND THE THREE LOSE THEIR POWERS! And why... why did he have to spoil 'Eregon'?"

"But that's not even the worst of it! Wait till I get started on the video games!" she cut him off as he opened his mouth to protest at her volume, and his meekly raised hand lowered again. "Jak and Daxter- did you know it was a TIME LOOP all ALONG!? And, why the heck did he feel the need to tell me Garrus would take a missile to the face in the second Mass Effect WITHOUT mentioning HE SURVIVES IT!? Who _does_ that!? That's just cruel! And Aerith... don't get me started on Aerith. Or even Noctis, from fifteen. I just... I can't... AND THEN THERE'S THE-"

"Madame, PLEASE!" The therapist snapped, raising his hands in surrender when she glared at him, mouth still hanging open. "The other patients will hear you. Now, the root of this problem seems to be this... Warlock. Now, what's his name?"

"I can't say it." She grumbled, crossing her arms. "He's too annoying. And he said my obsession with my past was illogical and unafiliated with watcher-ma-call-it objectives."

"Perhaps if you scream it into a pillow?" he offered, taking one off his chair and handing it to her. She held it in both hands, looking at it thoughtfully for a few moments, then plunged her face into it and screamed even louder than usual.

"ASHER MIR!"

* * *

 **Because really, he's SUPER annoying. And rude.**

 **This chapter inspired by the MASSIVE amount of spoilers that keep ruining my day... but I can't stay away from them!**

 **Next up is the concluding chapter!**

 **Read and REVIEW!**


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